It began about a month ago when I was in the drugstore looking for an over the counter decongestant. Having settled upon one box of cold medicine out of the hundreds on the shelves, I found myself, arm outstretched in front of me, squinting to read the ingredients on the back. Surely manufacturers had made the print smaller with all the new warnings they have to put on cold medicines these days. Later that night I performed a little test. I went to the medicine cabinet and tried to read the fine print on the back of everything from baby powder to nose drops and sure enough, I had ‘the squint.’ I knew this day would come, I just thought it would come closer to 50. I had always theorized that since I’ve worn glasses for distance since 4th grade, it meant that I would need reading glasses much later than most people. Much to my chagrin, I now owed a visit to the eye doctor. I can deal with work deadlines, Powerpoint malfunctions, vomiting toddlers and sleep-deprived pre-teens, but don’t make me take off my contacts and feel my way to the eye doctor’s chair in a dark room, unable to see anything more than one foot in front of me. This whole scenario is compounded by the fact that in the past year I’ve started to color my hair and put on eye cream, religiously, morning and night. And to top it off, last week a colleague at work referred to me as “middle-aged.”
About the same time that my eyes began to betray me, I read the book, Girls Will Be Girls by JoAnn Deak. The book is grounded in psychology and brain development research. It was written to help parents understand and support their daughters through the tumultuous pre-teen and teenage years when one moment, everything is possible and the next, all is lost. Emotionally and physiologically, teenagers are caught in a tug of war between childhood and adulthood, between parents and friends. As if the responsibility of parenthood weren’t daunting enough, this critical time of a child’s letting go is when we need to hold on the most. It’s about my little girl who holds my hand as we walk through the mall even as we go buy skinny jeans and lip gloss! After reading the book I realized that while I happen to be going through some changes of my own right now and I could easily dwell on “poor me, I’m getting old,” I can’t afford to. I need to be there for my daughter – to listen, support, guide, and listen some more. Always mindful of the fact that I am a role model, I decided that I would manage growing old the way I’ve always managed everything from work, to home, to raising children: focus on the positive and just do it.
So as I pat on my eye cream every night (big deal – it takes 5 seconds!), I think of all the positive things about reaching this age and stage in life. For example, I’m more confident and less driven now. The art of doing nothing really isn’t ‘nothing’ at all. I can be perfectly content to spend the whole day at home, playing board games, eating marshmallows, and watching kids’ TV shows. I have rediscovered my love of writing (hence this blog) and the joy of jeans. After years of never wearing jeans because they were either unsuitable or simply didn’t fit well, I recently bought not one, but three, pairs of jeans that I love and I wear every weekend. At work, I feel as if I am on a precipice; I know there are some positive changes and new challenges coming my way.
I’m just where I need to be. As my daughter turns 11 and starts on the path to adulthood, it’s not my crow’s feet or gray hairs that matter to her; rather, it’s the time I spend with her and how I spend it. After all, I want her to be most proud of who I am and our relationship, not what I look like or what I wear. Although I must admit, I’m pretty happy that she approves of my new jeans.
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